Since the book I have just published will be releasing officially in a few days, I thought I would give you all a sample of one of the stories in it. All the stories are very different in subject and tone so don’t expect them to be similar to each other. All of the stories I write tend to vary in length, tone, subject, etc. This sample story is one that I wrote in my english class last semester and is simply titles Shadows, mostly because I am terrible at titles and I like one word titles.


Leaves gently fell from the trees above, the red ovals gliding down to the decaying piles of their brethren. The soft morning sunlight streamed through the spots the leaves had left bare in the canopy, speckling the underbelly with spots of milky light. My leather boots stepped easily through the woods, muffled by the mosses that grew over the whites roots that interlinked each tree with the next.

My breath streamed out before me, the steam dissipating in the biting wind. My cloaked was spread around where I crouched, the ends of it melting into the ground behind me. A bow was in my right hand, the curved shape of it the same color as the ivory bark of the trees. On my back sat a quiver of arrows, each one tipped with a stone arrow and balanced perfectly by the spotted hawk’s feather.

The doe I was following had stopped briefly, finding the dry branches of the hibernating bush a good snack. She bent her neck down to nibble on the thorns, unaware of the huntress that had been tracking her for half a day. My empty left hand gently caressed the dagger on my hip, reassuring me that I had not lost it.

Slowly, I shifted my weight, trying to stretch my cramping legs. The doe raised her head, looking towards me. I froze; two days we had gone without food and I wasn’t about to ruin it now. I quickly knocked an arrow, aiming for her delicate pelt, changing my aim to adjust with the wind, and shot the arrow. It whistled through the forest, between the dense trees, and found its way into the tender flesh of the doe’s front left leg. The doe fell to the floor with a thud. I could hear the startled birds above me flying away angrily, as though I had disturbed their nest’s.

I walked up to the struggling doe, watching as her breathing grew more rapid and her movements slowed down. The life in her eyes slowly drained with the blood that pooled around her. I knelt beside her, caressing her neck.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I pulled out my dagger. “But you must die so that I may live.” Then I slit her throat and watched her die peacefully.

Skinning the deer was simple; knowing how much meat I could carry was not. I sliced through the belly and the tendons, careful to the filet the meat the way my father had taught me. I piled as much as I could into my satchel before leaving the carcass for the other animals to scavenge from. Killing animals was not something that I enjoyed doing, but it was necessary for our survival and I was the only one healthy enough to carry out the task.


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